A second
preface was thought necessary because two years have elapsed since the original
manuscript was ready, and many things have taken place in the intervening months,
including the murder of Dr.Rajani Thiranagama, one of the co-authors. The authors
have also had time to reflect on what they wrote nearly two years ago during
the heat of the October 1987 war and its immediate aftermath. While preserving
the emotional impact of these events, some editing has been done on the material
in the pre-publication issue in the interests of greater fairness and objectivity.
We have also removed impressions which affected us then, but would now obscure
the book's wider significance. Also included is a postscript written by the
late Dr. Rajani Thiranagama. Although we privately circulated the pre-publication
issue, we delayed mass distribution because of a few revisions we wanted to
make. But unfortunately, certain happenings led to the widespread distribution
of the copies of the pre-publication issue. To further compound matters, Rajani
was killed in September last year. Therefore we decided to publish the book
with few changes.

As we have mentioned earlier, countless young men had voluntarily taken
up arms and laid down their lives for a cause on behalf of the entire Tamil
population, in a war that was being waged against the chauvinist Sri Lankan
state. Sometimes they fought in the hope of obtaining their goal of Eelam -
a separate state - only in the distant future. The writing of an analysis of
the whole period of struggle, of its willing and unwilling participants, and
its history, which questions many an assumption and theory, may seem, to many,
irresponsible and foolish. Others may say, to indulge in self-criticism in the
hey-day of nationalist fervour was adventuristic and suicidal.

Apart from other considerations,we felt that we owed the writing of
this book to our young men in their teens who are on the streets carrying some
of the most sophisticated weapons in the world. We also owe it to our young
men and women to whom we hand down nothing but hypocrisy, despondency and hopelessness.The
present drift was destroying the creative capacity of a whole generation of
youths, exploiting their aspirations and transforming them into enemies fighting
one another.

We also felt the need for the articulation of independent but authentic sentiments
of the people. The people generally reacted instinctively to contingencies,
without going beyond what is apparent. Nor did they have the will to look at
them critically. It was hoped that a space for independent, objective, thinking,
keeping the people as its focal point, would evolve.

In the process of writing this book, we have over and over again come
to the conclusion that any positive development of our history rests primarily
on ourselves. Therefore, while condemning in no uncertain terms all open and
covert subversion of the politics of the liberation period by external forces
such as the Indian State, and the short-sightedness of its present and erstwhile
local allies who had lost sight of original goals, we have stressed the need
to study our aspirations, assumptions and susceptibilities. This may well be
too great a challenge to those whose exclusive idealism is not sympathetic to
criticism. The liberation struggle has always opted for militaristic solutions.
Critics and adversaries were killed. Dissidents were killed and branded traitors.
Criticism is often termed "an attempt to sully the sublimity of the movement".
Politics becomes the prerogative of the militarily strongest group. And even
its capitulations to the pressures of discredited forces are interpreted as
a furthering of the cause of Eelam.

Thus in this strait-jacketed ethos of ours, there was a strong need to
tap the seething but dormant consciousness of the people. It is appropriate
at this moment to quote an excerpt from Rajani Thiranagama's writings:

"A
state of resignation envelopes the community. The long shadow of the gun has
not only been the source of power and glory, but also of fear and terror as
well. In the menacing shadow play, forces complementing each other, dance in
each other's momentum. The paralysing depression is not due to the violence
and authority imposed from outside, but rather to the destructive violence emanating
from within the womb of our society."

Why was Rajani Thiranagama murdered ? It is a question not answered by
her killers who have chosen anonymity. When there were moves to commemorate
her life and work, questions were raised by many Tamils from around the world:
"Why should she alone be remembered and commemorated amidst so many killed
and unremembered?"

She was killed because her sense of responsibility demanded that, in
her concern for the meaningless deaths of ordinary people, the dominant political
trends of this society ought to be questioned. The accepted practice was to
use the statistics of the dead to castigate the villain of the moment from the
capitals of the world. It accorded well with the thrust of using people as cannon
fodder for the purposes of propaganda. Rajani did what was unacceptable. She
asked questions that went deep into the causes of destruction and questioned
the politics behind it. She viewed the writing of "The Broken Palmyrah,"
not as an isolated scholarly socio-historical analysis, but as a democratic
treatment of the people. She was never indifferent to the fate of those who
had taken up arms for a cause they knew little about. She was often sympathetic
to their stated aspirations and tried to begin a dialogue with them, although
she did not share their views.

Right from her undergraduate days, Rajani had yearned and fought for
social justice and equality. Whether it be student issues, the discrimination
against Tamils, the National Question or general strikes, she always aligned
herself with the oppressed parties. She stood up in very delicate situations
and argued, confronted and negotiated for the rights of the people. During her
stay in Britain from 1983 to 1986, she, together with her postgraduate studies,
participated in the various political and socio-cultural struggles of the black
people. She shared in the striving of blacks for an end to discrimination and
their recognition as a political force to be esteemed. She did this with her
characteristic enthusiasm. It was particularly in the sphere of black women
and feminism that she explored specific issues and concepts concerning women,
within the broader framework of class, black struggles and other third world
phenomena.

Rajani's involvement with women's groups and issues was part of her broader
concern for people, especially oppressed people. She found in women's struggles
for survival with dignity and independence, a message for all struggling people.
When a group of women in Jaffna came together to establish a home for women
in need-"The Poorani Women's Centre" - she gave generously of herself
to the task of establishing it and seeing it through its teething problems.
Her theoretical undertakings in feminism and her personal relationships with
women inside and outside the university are instances of how she yoked theory
and practice together.

A peace march to express the people's feelings about the militarisation
of the young had been one of Rajani's last wishes. She had also suggested the
slogan "We want bread; not bullets". This was taken up by those who
had been inspired by her and such a march, quite independent of any political
group, was held on 21 November, 1989. It was joined-in by representatives from
the Sinhalese South, Britain, India, Pakistan, Netherlands, South Africa and
Tanzania. Tributes were received from persons great and small from around the
world.

When a medical student spoke at the meeting held after the peace march
to commemorate Rajani, he recalled Rajani in connection with this particular
issue of militarisation. Shortly before her death, after her return from England,
she had called him up and had asked him gravely, what they were doing about
it as a student body. This was during the height of the I.P.K.F. sponsored forced
conscription. He further said at the commemoration meeting:

"During
the peace march which preceded this meeting, I was struck by what two conscripts
from the T.N.A. said as we passed them. They said, 'Had you marched a few months
earlier,we would not be here in these uniforms, holding these guns'. On the
other hand, in Vadamaratchi where I come from, boys around 13 and 14 years old
are induced to carry weapons without any political understanding. Disillusionment
sets in fast. All that remains is a thirst for vengeance".

These
student leaders knew the risks. They understood the nuances when gunmen came
and spoke to them. They knew that business was meant. When they walk the streets
after dark or go to their rooms for the night, they are exposed and helpless.
The death that threatens them is not instant death in the rush of battle, but
death as an ever present possibility. They knew why their friend and mentor,
Rajani, was killed. They were keenly aware of the fate of Vimaleswaran, a former
student leader

The courage and an unyielding analytical and emotional thrust that Rajani
had inspired in this particular student is the kind of influence she had on
many around her. Her actions, writings and her passionate concern, stand in
stark contrast to those who hold positions in this society without acknowledging
the associated responsibility. It is because of the explosive potential of her
memory that many are trying to either play it down or suppress it. It also explains
why many were uncomfortable with her - some even to the point of wanting her
killed.

A chronic fear of violent bodily harm is an ever present feature of Tamil
life. Many Tamils fled this country in fear following the anti-Tamil violence
of July 1983 and its aftermath. Now they live in London, New York, Toronto,
Oslo, Amsterdam and so on. And the fear remains and is more subtle, but it still
is very real. This time it comes from within. Speakers billed to speak at meetings
suddenly tender excuses. Someone participating in a cultural show receives a
call because it is sponsored by persons independent of a powerful group. Those
not happy with the main propaganda line talk in hushed tones at public gatherings.
Messages are passed on half jokingly that someone whose views were unpalatable,
would be kidnapped. Persons organising something like a scheme to help ex-militants
abroad, receive a call from Colombo or Madras threatening with death their close
relatives back at home. This plague of fear becomes obscene only by being tolerated.

The Tamils have become isolated individuals without a sense of community.
Even in conditions where they can appeal for help from the forces of law and
order, and where the press could be sympathetic, they find themselves unable
to organise in the interests of their self-respect and dignity. With a few exceptions,
the Tamil-Associations that dot the world are gatherings where they can conveniently
and uncritically misrepresent events at home. They are inextricably linked to
the sickness and its cure back at home.

This brings us to hundreds of young men who had once meant well and later
left their militant groups, often broken and disillusioned, to live out their
existence in India and the capitals of the West, as men in a hangover. Many
of them helped to recruit large numbers to their organisation. Others have been
well known killers. Some number their murdered victims in the tens. If these
persons have any sense of responsibility or any courage left, continued silence
is not the honourable option open to them. For the good of those of their community
who can still be saved, they must risk coming out openly and confessing that
they were wrong and that what they had advocated is wrong. Rajani had once helped
a militant group. It is a measure of her sense of responsibility that she came
out and openly repudiated what the group had stood for. In this she was almost
an exception. That was why she felt inclined to carry on her shoulders in tears,
the responsibility of the community for having brought our young to this.

With the passage of time, and after what happened to Rajani - a supreme
act of intolerance- we have felt a greater need to publish this as a collective
work. Any reader is bound to come across within these pages, a divergence of
views. Much of this will turn out to be complementary. We wish to demonstrate
that despite our differences, we are willing to work together, listen to reasoned
argument, and remain open to being changed by each other. This is not only the
ideal of science, but also of the search for truth. We would also defend each
other's right to hold his or her different opinions.

We wish to thank many friends and acquaintances who have been sympathetic
to the publication of this book and have helped us by making many suggestions
in the interests of fairness, have pointed out errors of fact, and have given
much valuable time to going through the contents, paying attention to detail.
Finally we thank all those who helped us in the several aspects of publication
and distribution.